I'm just tired

I find it strange that people are so age hysterical. It seems odd to me when someone refers to my age and insinuates that my chronological designation defines every facet of my existence. I don't feel old. (Am I supposed to??) I just feel mighty responsible and tired most days. I give myself permission, on occasion, to take a nap. I cook homemade meals every day. I make desserts from scratch. I don't find age to be a determinant in my daily life. Reality would seem to indicate that for the VAST majority of individuals age isn't an indicator of maturation.. I do find that my values don't appear to be the shared values of the general public. That could be age related.. or it could be education related, gender related, culture related, etc. Again, I'm glad that I'm not sharing the morals of the majority. I find them lacking.

Of course there are some things that appear to be age related in my perspective. I don't care to be found attractive to the general male populace. It enters my mind on occasion since those deemed attractive tend to make more money; for no other reason than another's desire to copulate with them. The testosterone hyperactivity appears to engage some disdain switch in my makeup, which then activates the desire to verbally beat the immaturity out of said "man". I'm definitely at an age where the mindless march annoys me.

I love technology. True, I'm not utilizing my iPod to it's maximum capabilities, as is frequently pointed out to me by my now teenage daughter. But that's why it's my iPod.. I like gaming, love PS3 and have a blast with the Wii. I don't pay a bill unless it's online. Every question I need answered comes from an .edu, .org or .gov. - which helps me retain my sanity and doesn't involve public situations in libraries where I am bound to have violent thoughts concerning other people in my space. I despise Wal-Mart and the mindset of patrons it seems to cultivate. I wish I didn't have neighbors, or at least live a good mile or two from them. I don't believe in excuses or the need for them. Maybe I am old. Maybe I'm just tired of the BS and see no need to entertain it.

Lemme see if I've got this straight.. I go to school, get in debt to the tune of 80 g's to get an "elevated" degree that pays less than Chuck's B.S. and 10 years experience.. (no pun intended on the B.S. - sometimes it just works out so naturally!) So I go do this and work 40+ hours a week in a miserable job with an unmedicated bipolar boss. Leave said miserable job for an even lower paying job that isn't as miserable and only work 40 hours a week. Hmm, improvment. So I work my 40 hours a week, pick my daughter up everyday after school, drop off my soon to be step-mother, make dinner nightly, feed the cats and dog, take the dog out, buy the groceries, pay the bills, do the laundry, clean the house and I'm not entitled to 30 minutes of peace in the evening because it's HUGE news that Lebron is playing b-ball?? I'm a god-awful tyrant because I don't give a rat's ass? and because I further more ask repeatedly to not be inundated with play-by-play analysis, I'm completely out of touch with reality, a mean person, and this event is hugely important to everyone on the planet except me - because clearly I'm a maladjusted individual.. Further compounded by the statement that I just don't understand because I'm white. Wow. Now my ethnicity has the final say in my personality characteristics - likes and dislikes?

Gross generalizations aside, I don't care to partake in popular culture. I have never watched an episode of Jersey Shore and I'm perfectly satisfied with that status. I've never watched LOST. I've never watched Sex and the City.. and yet, amazingly enough I still function every day. It's possible that I'm the mal-adjusted one, but leave me to my mal-adjustment! Who am I harming?? If anything it leaves more popular culture for the rest of the lemmings.

Lost (1st draft)

I started with the rooms,
scanning methodically
slow, measured catalog
realizing the dismal dimensions
anew,
remembering when
these spaces
held promise,

Empty handed, I moved
to closets and dressers,
shifting, searching,
fingernails hitting wood
coming up with air
overflowing spaces,
snapshots of a life
so far removed
hands shield my eyes
the sunlight glares,

With only dust motes
I uncovered boxes
started sifting through pockets
removing rolled up lint
and crushed anti-acids
in faded foil,
the carpet fibers felt
a jungle
I was lost
despite my arduous search
I remained just out
of sight,
a second death
pre-mortem.

Vacation

My husband and teen daughter are sleeping the day away (11:38 am) while I've been up checking facebook and arranging my newest photos from Chincoteague island. I'm finding that "family" vacation isn't quite what it's cracked up to be. Not that I haven't enjoyed it and loved some of the experiences shared with my little family, because I have. But the relaxing factor hasn't really been present. Three distinct and individual personalities do not seem to have much hope of synchronized relaxation - especially when they have three distinct and varied agendas. My husband's agenda seems to be to do as little as possible. He will cheerfully do the driving and stop at EVERY last 7/11 in the area for "snacks" (aka junk food) and chances to win "prizes" on Farmville - which I regret ever introducing him to.. but his vacation focus seems to be food, sleep, and in his words "man needs". My daughter is more open to experiences, threw herself willingly into the ocean, but still has her eye on the favorite past time of almost every American teenager - shopping. I'm not against some shopping but hubby is not inclined while not on vacation, let alone while on vacation. This causes a fraction of friction. As for myself, yesterday's drive to Chincoteague was the best part for me thus far.

Chuck and I have been together for 21 years this past June. There is no reasonable summation of that time spent together. During those 21 years we have taken one vacation together, to Naggshead NC, roughly 13 yrs ago while I was 6 & 1/2 months pregnant with our daughter. In the intervening years it has been a struggle to live life. There were no vacation plans and definitely no vacation money. We have managed the odd weekend here or there as a family to Ligoner, Somerset, Ohiopyle, etc., but that has been the extent. My daughter and I took a week to Kentucky to see one of my dearest friends a few years ago, which was the highlight of our combined experiences. Our first flight in a plane together, first extended stay in a hotel together, first foray into a different state together, and we had the additional blessing of being guided around by my friend who knows the pulse of her city. I had begun, years ago, taking small weekender trips to connect with sister friends that I had met on the Ya Ya boards. These trips were liberating and restorative for me. But as a family, this is our first family vacation together. It was clear to me the importance this had for our daughter. Hearing the stories of her friends at school about family vacations she would come home and ask quite innocently why we didn't go anywhere. If nothing else this current vacation is satisfying on that level of answering that question for her.

We are, combined, quite a dynamic team/family. But we are not accustomed to compromise and travelling together has brought into focus some sharp angles, pointed elbows and crooked teeth. My vision of the happy travelling family is not in flames exactly, but there are singe marks and the trip is not yet over. I'm a human observer and so I observe my family... with mixed emotions. You can grow strong by never having the things you want/need. But you can also grow strong by the support that lifts you to a higher level for your flight into this world. I've come up the hard scrabble way. I'm tough like beef jerky, but my insides are a little too tender. Maybe I'm a soft shell crab, fried into a sandwich. Keep chewing and don't investigate when you get to some "interesting" flavors. I watch the strange evolving relationship between my husband and daughter with some inability to keep my mouth shut. Why do we live in a world that appears to be scrabbling, never having enough, when there is an abundance available, overflowing the brim? Perception makes fools or sages of us all. The journey isn't nearly over.

Along with these rambling thoughts there is the exploration of this new environment. Virginia beach with it's overpopulated, yet surprisingly calm and peaceful, tourist laden beachfront. Glaringly obvious was the deficient parenting skills; the overwhelming insecurity of parents bent into grotesque contortions trying to please their 3 and 5 year old children instead of teaching them, molding them, correcting their tantrums and expecting "better" behavior. I see such a lack of expectations and standards, not just in parenting, but in our American lifestyles and it sickens me. Far removed from disdain and disgust, this nauseous feeling in my gut springs from a sharp fear of where this burgeoning society is rapidly heading. We're picking up speed, losing control, and racing towards a chasm of unknown depths. On Chincoteague island, a place of indescribable stark beauty, there was an impression of tenacity in the landscape, the people and the houses. Chincoteague isn't English. Where are the people, who were they, in what language were so many burghs, towns and cities named? Maybe the locals know. There was an absence of placards for the tourist to learn from. There were also exceedingly rude people swarming the carnival to raise money for the Chincoteague fire department - you know, the whole reason for the pony swim? According to the website, over 40,000 "mainlanders" travel to this event, not to mention people from out of state, such as my family. In general I was just rolled in the wave of realization of how we have lost our manners.. and it doesn't become us. Small town feel, some generous locals extending welcome to the tourists whose summer trade will feed their families through the winter months, but overwhelmingly Americans with their sticky, grubby fingers grasping, coveting, wanting more to shove into the void of their lives - that great gaping maw that is infinite and insatiable. Not a pleasant realization to have while milling the crowds entranced by the beauty of feral horses and listening to surprisingly good country music from a stage upon which these locals give their all to keep their way of life. There is beauty amidst the revolting and that is what I appreciate most about this life.

I started out writing this irritated by my family's extended slumber on our "last" full day of vacation. Instead I was handed an unexpected gift of time to empty some of the overfull thoughts bloating my mind. I'm not an experienced vacationer. Maybe that contributes to my gratitude for unexpected things.

Communication

At any given time there are a dozen random thoughts circling in my mind. They used to be creative, fanciful, daydream spun thoughts. But most often now my thoughts are centered almost exclusively on what I'm doing, what I need to be doing/should be doing, must get done, will get done tomorrow, what I can schedule for next week, blah, blah, blah! An endless repetoire of chores dances through my mind - or rather marches militantly through my mind like little fiendish Nazis. Single minded in purpose and pursuit, this process leaves me with unabated anxiety. On the rare occasion that I purposefully turn my mind away from the endless list of that which needs to be done, my family jumps in and steers back to the god forsaken shore of - "what you need to do to help ME". Through this analysis I've realized that I have a harder time saying no than I should.. and furthermore feel I have to justify my rejection of proposed work shoveled in my direction. You'd think my house would be cleaner with this kind of weird and intense Protestant work ethic!

So how did I get on the kick of communication? Thinking of all the useless babble being blasted into cyberspace, the meaningless play by play tweets by twits, the updates on everything from dinner to underwear - this seems a sort of madness more than a flow of communication. Yet I post regularly on Facebook about whatever tickles my fancy - or more likely - pisses me off. The worldwide web has apparently opened the borders for instant gratification and endless validation, no matter how ridiculous your perspective/fetish/daily life, you can find a few hundred on the planet who are into what you're into.. On the surface that should be a good thing, and maybe this social experiment of human life will show just that. But I'm sardonically and alarmingly inclined to view this mass validation as a dangerous phenomenom.. the very thing that drew me to the web, had me posting daily and voraciously on a bulletin board with strangers around the world, built my self-efficacy - that connectedness may be the most volatile intangible imaginable. I've written two paragraphs and managed to communicate what exactly?? I think we're losing an insidious war.

So in light of these thoughts it seems strange and wonderously counterindicative, but I think I need to communicate more. I feel rusty and obsolete.

Same as it ever was..

I keep having this insane idea, that I'm going to change my life and somehow live closer to the ideal I've dreamt of all my life. More thought to follow. Just had to get that out before bed!